


to the end of a dream

by ryukita



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Denial of Feelings, Feelings Realization, M/M, Unrequited Love, hubert realizes he has feelings and he hates it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-26
Updated: 2020-07-26
Packaged: 2021-03-06 04:01:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,547
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25537012
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ryukita/pseuds/ryukita
Summary: Being human is painfully unnecessary for Hubert, who doesn't deserve such a privilege in the first place.
Relationships: Linhardt von Hevring/Hubert von Vestra
Comments: 7
Kudos: 45





	to the end of a dream

There are six moments Hubert considers himself human.

The first is in blue eyes shrouded in concern. 

“That's what you get, Hubert. If you rested like me, you wouldn't collapse from exhaustion.” Just a few syllables off from “I told you so.”

Hubert sighs, fingers curling into weak fists. He hadn’t collapsed since he was young, so to be confronted with the reality that his body required nourishment and attention, in front of the supposed embodiment of self care…

Pitiful.

“As much as it pains me to say it, you're right.”

Hubert is suddenly acutely aware of the varying feelings in each of his body parts: the thrum of the scrapes in his legs, the light sting in his nose that came with the scent of white magic, the lingering fog in his mind, the dryness of his mouth as he carries on the conversation…

Even so, everything seems to fall with just a few words.   
“Heh, but if we weren't friends, I probably would have just left you.” 

Hubert wonders if being human is encased in the moment the air is knocked out of his lungs.

The second moment is shrouded by an inky blue, emphasized by whispers of the moon and the brush of a nightly breeze, both of which seem to smooth over Hubert's sore joints. He almost curses the approaching figure for ruining his fleeting serenity until he realizes whose hair is catching the moonlight in such a way.

"I didn't take you as one for late nights, Linhardt." 

“Hubert.” Surprise crosses Linhardt's features and laces his voice. "I didn't expect  _ you _ to be outside of your study so late."

Hubert wants to agree, but the fear of vulnerability hangs just out of sight, pressing against the back of his throat. He goes with the next best option.

“Even I must heed my body’s call for fresh air.” Hubert pauses to shoot a look of suspicion at Linhardt. “And what are  _ you _ doing at this hour?”

“So you took my advice.” Linhardt mumbles with a smile, something that he receives a glare for, and continues without missing a beat. “I am returning from the library. The librarian scolded me for doing my research too late ‘again.’” 

Hubert quirks a brow. “Again?”

“Honestly, why must the position of the sun dictate when I can do my reading? Of course, the books that I wish to read are from the restricted section that  _ must _ stay in the library for whatever reason…” Linhardt shakes his head, frowning. He brings his hand to his chin, and Hubert can almost see the light forming above his head. “Unless there were other places I could get-”

“No.”

“So, you  _ do _ have some resources on-”

“No.”

“That’s not very convincing.”

“I do not have time for this.” With a sweep of his cape, Hubert begins to walk away. His mind reminds him how foolish it is to turn his back to an enemy, but he finds that sentiment hard to believe at the time. He doesn’t allow himself to wonder why.

“Wait just a moment-” There is an increase in footsteps behind him, and suddenly Linhardt is at his side. “It’s not as though you’re reading them right now, right? If I could just borrow them for a-”

“I have collected many books from all of my travels, and so, they are all valuable.” Hubert shoots a glance at the white mage. “Why should I lend them to you?”

“I’ll stop pestering you.” Linhardt replies without missing a beat, a smile tugging at his lips. “And I know how much you enjoy your peace and quiet.”

Hubert is left with a quarter of his library gone and knocks at his door every week from then on. He finds that the discussions to come along with each book lent is valuable to both his work and to a part of him he refuses to admit to.

The third moment is the only one that does not involve forest green and ocean blue, instead replaced by stark white and lilac purple. 

Hubert can barely process the expression of the colors’ owner, given the anxiety crushing his ribcage is overwhelming his attention.    
But Hubert is careful and particular, and he would never let himself waver in front of her.

“... Very well. You have me beaten. I will tell you as much as I am able. From the assassins I've eliminated, to the gold I've spent on bribes… To the identity of the one I love.”

He knows how this will end. So, why does his heart flutter at the way her eyes widen? 

“Wait a moment. Are you saying...you have romantic feelings for someone?” Edelgard asks, leaning forward in her curiosity. It’s the first time in a very long time that he has been the object of her interest.

“Yes. That is the one secret I had particularly hoped to keep from you.” He’s drawing it out, and he can’t put his finger on  _ why _ . He wants to get rid of the burning of his veins and the collapsing of his lungs. So, that’s why…

“Well, that's utter nonsense! You can't possibly keep something so fascinating from me! Who is it?” A step closer, a beaming smile, eyes sparkling with excitement...

He has to end this.

“It is you, Lady Edelgard. Did you ever really doubt?”

And it does. It ends with how the curiosity immediately falls to realization and a touch of disappointment that clings to the edge of his thoughts.

“Heh, Hubert... You never cease to surprise me.” Edelgard pulls a smile, and her tone is the same one would adopt when talking to a child.

Hubert despises it. He despises the way he fell for her words, how the laugh he forces out makes his guts feel as though they’re inverting, how the mere thought that he ever had any semblance of hope is enough to make him feel horribly sick.

Every painful stab and puncture to his insides brought about by his absurd, meaningless emotions is another reminder of how disgustingly human he is.

The fourth moment is coated in a deep red.

It’s only stained, at first, and mainly on Hubert’s hands. Enemy after enemy fall by his hand, his allies are uninjured, and they are moving as planned. Nothing leaves his sight, and he knows everyone is. Everything is falling into place.

A blur flashes by Hubert’s vision, a quick line resembling a crack in his view. How could he let an enemy assassin slip into their backlines? He whips around to quickly assess the situation. 

The assassin must have used the trees to his advantage to slip past the front lines and make an ambush from behind. His hand is curled around the handle of his weapon. He has his eyes locked on Linhardt; it makes sense, given how he was the one to tend to one of their main powerhouses, Caspar. Of course he’s a high priority target. 

Hubert scolds himself for even allowing Linhardt to be in such a position. He raises his hands to dispose of the enemy, but... 

Nothing comes out of his hands.There isn't time for his magic to build up and reach his target. Instead, he can feel his blood run cold and every bit of air being stolen from him.

Linhardt has a gentle smile on his face while tending to a sheepish Caspar's light wounds. It seems that in the midst of his gentle scolding, he failed to notice the glare on his back. The unmistakable noise of the unsheathing of a dagger is what catches his attention, and the horror that dawns on him when he turns around to find the suspect breaks something in Hubert.

Hubert finds himself wanting to protect that smile, filled with a fondness that he's only gotten to see directed at him very recently.

Hubert finds his legs moving on their own accord.

Never turn your back to the enemy. Hubert could laugh at how he's actively going against what's been beat into his brain since young. 

Hubert didn't plan for this. He had only planned for a situation in which Lady Edelgard was in immediate danger… This would've been his same response.

So, why is he applying that to Linhardt?

Hubert can't recall much after that interaction. He can feel something warm in his arms, followed very quickly by what feels like a hot… Punch? Only a punch?

As soon as the impact is over, Hubert drops whatever is in his arms and turns to the perpetrator. He's able to release a blast of magic faster than he's ever conjured. He shoots again, then a third time- He had to make sure there was no more threat, no more possible holes to their carefully crafted plan.

He lowers his hand and breathes a sigh of relief when he finds the enemy is very much dead.

"Linhardt, you really need to be more careful." Hubert rubs his temples. He realizes that he fell to his knees during the ordeal, so he gets up to dust his uniform off. "Friendships must be kept to the side during battle, along with anything that could distract you. You know how dangerous it-" Hubert's voice catches in his throat as he turns to look at Linhardt.

Both Linhardt and Caspar look petrified.

"Hubert-" Linhardt seems to snap out of whatever trance he was in. He scrambles to his feet, nearly falling over again. "The knife- It's still in your shoulder."

Hubert's mind draws a blank. "Knife…?" He drops his gaze to where he felt the first hot impact, at the back of his right shoulder, and-

_ Oh. _

The same blade that glinted in the sunlight, the same one that was about to be driven into Linhardt's shoulder, is now lodged clean into his own.

Only then does Hubert's body remember what pain is. The initial searing wave is enough to bring him to his knees with a grunt. Has his vest always clung to his shoulder…? Of course it hasn’t, he’s bleeding for goddess’ sake-

Time begins to blend after that. He vaguely recalls trying to insist on staying, which was quickly shut down by the sudden crowd of people around him. The only thing his insistence gets him is that Linhardt is the one to oversee him; he can’t trust anyone else with this.

There’s a gap in his memory after that. 

Next thing he knows, he’s lying down on what feels like a bed. The split second of bliss upon waking up is crushed with a flash of Linhardt’s face filled with pure fear. He tries to sit up, but immediately doubles over from a sharp pain in his back. It’s debilitating, and he despises it.

The groan of pain that forcibly escapes his throat is what alerts someone else in the room, and Hubert can hear some feet scurrying over to his side. He should focus his vision, it might be an enemy, he needed to-

“And where do you think you’re going?”

Hubert would’ve gasped if he didn’t still feel the pain reverberating throughout his body. “Linhardt?” He manages to focus his gaze to confirm his word. He gets that and some hands on his shoulders, gently pushing him back on the bed. “What- Are you alright? How did the battle go?”

Linhardt gives him an exasperated look. “You were stabbed, and the first things you ask about are anything but yourself?”

Hubert just stares at Linhardt with an expectant look. He didn’t feel that warranted a response.

Linhardt sighs, sitting on a stool near the bed. “I’m going to talk about you, first. The wound was deep - In fact, your lung partially collapsed. I’ve had to use a great amount of healing many times since you fainted, and frankly, I’m exhausted.”

Annoyance creeps into Hubert’s frown. “Linhardt, just get-”

“However,” Linhardt pointedly interrupts, “You are in a stable condition now. I was able to heal the majority of your lung since I treated you right after the incident. When you were brought in here, I got to tend to the less serious injuries from the wound. The rest is left to your body, though I did my best to put it on the best path toward recovery.”

Hubert sighs and finally allows himself to relax into the bed. Being tense brought out the soreness of his back. “Is Lady Edelgard safe?”

“Yes. To answer your questions from earlier, I am fine, and we were just barely victorious. I’m not sure why Edelgard insisted they continue fighting with both of us out of the fight, but…” 

“Good.” Hubert closes his eyes, feeling contentment washing over him… Or was that drowsiness?

"Thank you, by the way." 

Hubert almost sits up again from the shock, but his eyes just pop open instead.

"For saving me." Linhardt clarifies. He's twirling a loose lock of hair around his finger. "I thought I was as good as dead, but… The last thing I expected was you to be in front of me instead of a flashback of my life."

Hubert has to take a few moments to process that. He did save Linhardt, didn't he? "It would be a shame to lose such a valuable asset to the Empire."

The healer scoffs. "Come now, Hubert. You and I both know you wouldn't risk your life for one good asset."

Hubert does know this, but… That would leave him at a loss. Why  _ did _ he do something so irrational and dangerous?

Alarm bells blare in his head, which could only mean Hubert would stumble upon a realization he couldn't quite handle. So, he ignores what he can.

"Well, that's the case. Take it as you will." Hubert huffs, settling back into the bed. It makes him wince, but he has to make his point.

Linhardt only hums. "If you say so." He rises to his feet. "Regardless, I'm sure you're parched and hungry. I will fetch you dinner." He spins on his heel and starts making his way out of the infirmary.

There's a very small, intrusive corner of his brain that immediately tells Hubert he wants Linhardt to stay. It begs him to reach his hand out and catch his wrist. It pleads with him to tell him that he is relieved Linhardt is unharmed, that he needs to have his company a touch longer, that he longs to figure out  _ why _ he did such a thing.

Even so, Hubert does not act on things he does not understand. So, none of these things materialize. He can only rationalize one more reason to keep Linhardt there for a moment more.

"Linhardt." Hubert swallows down whatever lump is in his throat when said man stops at the doorway and turns to face him. "... Thank you. For tending to me."

There's a beat of silence, and even Linhardt looks a bit taken aback. The look is replaced with a warm smile that fills Hubert's core with a pleasant feeling. "It's the least I can do for a friend like you."

That moment, mixed with soreness and elation, haunts Hubert for weeks to come.

The fifth moment is dressed in reds and oranges.

“Just where exactly are you taking me?” Hubert makes sure the exasperation in his voice is evident.

Linhardt is undeterred. “You must know the layout of Garreg Mach by now to at least guess where I’m taking you, right?”

Hubert sighs. “Allow me to rephrase, then;  _ why _ are you taking me to the cathedral?”

“Close guess. Regardless, I believe it would be more productive to see for yourself. You’re already following me, aren’t you?”

If it were anyone else, Hubert would’ve left right then and there. He wonders why it’s different for Linhardt.

The rest of the walk is silent. It leaves Hubert to seethe over the annoying pain in his back. The wound has healed a great deal over the last week or two, but the constant discomfort is enough to make him want to eviscerate his entire right side.

Linhardt stops suddenly on the bridge leading to the cathedral. “Here we are.”

Hubert slows to a stop, giving his friend a questioning look. “Are you certain? In case you’ve forgotten, this isn’t the cathedral.”

“I am aware.” Linhardt walks to the edge of the bridge, leaning forward with his elbows on the railing.

Hubert follows, stopping beside him. “... What exactly was the point of taking me here?”

“Why don’t you take a look? If you’re so good at observation like you claim to be, it should be obvious.”

After a sigh, Hubert focuses on what’s beyond the bridge: the sunset. He’s taken aback by the way the sky and the valley are painted in endless amounts of oranges and reds and the way the sun sinking behind the mountains colors them blue. He takes the moment to note the gentle breeze against his face and the smell of blooming flowers and freshly cut grass.

“While it is a beautiful view,” Hubert finally breaks the silence with a low voice, as if not to break the atmosphere, “That doesn’t quite tell me why we’re here.”

“Really, Hubert, is it so inconceivable that I brought you here for your own benefit?” Linhardt doesn’t tear his eyes from the sunset. 

“No, but-” 

“We have the most important battle of our lives coming up, don’t we? You’ve been working more than ever, and knowing you, you won’t do anything that expends any effort you could be using to work.”

Only when Linhardt is done speaking does Hubert notice how his heart is beating a bit faster than normal. Is this what it was like to be known on a level deeper than the surface? He dares to take a look at Linhardt to ensure he was being genuine.

The sun had decided to bathe Linhardt in its rays, making his sun glow and his eyes shine. The wind gently untucked the green locks of hair from behind his ears to wave them in front of his face. It takes a moment for him to notice he’s being looked at, and he turns his head to meet Hubert’s gaze. His fingers catch one of his strands of hair and gently curl it back behind his ear, revealing a gentle, warm smile that could rival the sight before them. “I meant what I said, you know.”

Hubert wonders when he stopped breathing. Words rush onto the tip of his tongue all at once, and his heart sends what feels like a shockwave through his body. He can’t quite make sense of it all at once.

“Thank you.” He manages to get out. “Your companionship has helped me in many ways.”

“The feeling is mutual. It’s my relationships that have gotten me through this awful war, especially yours and Caspar’s… I can only hope it will end with this upcoming battle.” Linhardt’s smile falls, despite a gentle pink hue in his cheeks.

Hubert’s heart drops. Without thinking, he reaches out to put his hand over Linhardt’s, trying for a small smile. This was a reassuring motion, right? “It will. I will make sure it does.”

Linhardt is visibly shocked for a few moments, but he relaxes with a chuckle. “Well, when you say it like that, I have no choice but to believe you.”

It’s in that moment, with Linhardt’s melody still ringing in his ears and his eyes looking into his core, that Hubert realizes what words have caught his tongue for weeks:  _ I love you _ .

Hubert pulls his hand away from Linhardt’s a little too fast when the words reverberate in his skull. He loved Linhardt. To not realize that until now…

“Let’s enjoy the entire sunset, shall we?” Linhardt either didn’t notice Hubert’s dilemma or didn’t want to say anything about it. He turned back toward the view.

“Yes…” Hubert quietly agrees, turning his face away. 

These feelings are different than anything he had ever felt for Edelgard. He feels he can be more than someone else’s dream by Linhardt’s side, as though he had something more than what he had been given from birth. If even he was capable of such a wonderful feeling… Maybe he truly is human all the way through. 

The sixth moment is entwined with deep green and bright blue, sprinkled with gentle pink hues.

Hubert doesn’t see these colors right away. Instead, he’s looking at the assortment of whites and yellows in his hands. He had ventured a ways from Garreg Mach after doing research into flower symbolism, and he collected white chrysanthemums, jonquils, and daffodils. He knew that Linhardt would have a little bit of fun figuring out each meaning.

_ Linhardt… _

Hubert’s heart starts racing at the thought of the man. The war is over, and he knows it’s time for a new beginning. He has a note in his pocket, and it asks Linhardt to go to the Goddess Tower. There, he would confess his feelings…

He tries not to think about how his heart drops at that last part. The possibility of rejection weighed heavily on his shoulders…

Hubert shakes his head. He had already decided Linhardt was worth that risk. He can’t have second, third, or fourth thoughts now.

He leaves his dorm, shifting the flowers in his hands. He takes a moment to take a deep breath and calm his fluttering heart down. Linhardt’s dorm is downstairs. All he has to do is slide the note under the door and hope he gets to the tower before Linhardt. He mentally prepared what he’d say earlier today… 

Professing his love… Telling Linhardt every wonderful thing about him and everything he made him feel…

Hubert finds himself smiling as he heads down the stairs and down the hall. He stops in front of Linhardt’s dorm and fetches the note from his pocket. This is it. Hopefully Linhardt isn’t in his dorm to open the door and catch him while he’s leaving…

Hubert is in the process of kneeling down when he hears the unmistakable sound of Caspar’s boisterous laughter. He mentally curses and rushes to round the corner to his right. He presses his back against the wall. He couldn’t be discovered- This is a moment for Linhardt and him, no matter how good of a friend Caspar was…

… Was Caspar’s voice coming closer? That didn’t make sense- His dorm is upstairs, next to Hubert’s. Where is…? He peeks out to see a head of bright blue hair walking behind one with long, green locks.

“What you said was totally cheesy, though!” Caspar’s voice rings out.

Hubert holds his breath, snapping his head back behind the wall and straining his ears. Could he be talking to…? 

“... Can’t blame me.” The second voice comes within earshot at the end of the sentence, and Hubert’s heart sinks.

Linhardt.

“I said what I needed to say. I needed to get it through your thick head, after all.” Linhardt sighs, despite the apparent fondness in his voice.

“Hey! How was I supposed to know you… Y’know…” Caspar trails off, sounding shy.

Linhardt laughs. “I thought it’d be obvious.”

“Not really!”

The two are very close now. Hubert can deduce they’re right in front of Linhardt’s door.

“... Uh… Well, good night…?” Caspar tries to play off his obvious nervousness with a laugh.

“Caspar…” Linhardt pauses, as if he’s trying to find the right words. “... Would you like to stay the night?”

Hubert wonders if heartbreak is as loud as it felt.

“R-Really? Oh, yeah! Actually, uh, can I…?” Caspar trails off again.

“You don’t need to ask, Caspar.”

The silence that follows is deafening. Hubert doesn’t dare to move or even breathe. He almost doubles over at the sound of two pairs of lips pulling away from each other.

“Wow! Wow, yeah, I need to get used to that.” Caspar laughs.

Linhardt chuckles. “We have plenty of time to do that. Come in, then.”

Hubert waits for the click of a closed door to suck in a breath. He breaks into a sprint toward the stairs, then to his room. He can’t breathe, his whole body is on fire, everything-

When he fumbles for his keys, he realizes he’s set the flowers in his hands on fire. He had heard of people accidentally letting out magic when their emotions overtook them…

This is the first time it’s happened to him. It only amplifies how he feels like he’s dying from the inside out.

He throws the flowers on the floor and stomps on them to put them out. He does this for longer than necessary, releasing  _ something  _ in him that he doesn’t want to face. He simply wants these flowers to be erased from his sight.

Hubert is panting by the time he stops. The petals had been burned off and the stems and leaves were crushed. The only decipherable flower is a single daffodil, limp and lifeless.

He’s tired. 

He gets his key, stumbles into his room, and lets his legs give out against his front door.

Linhardt didn’t love him.

That one thought, the first one to pop into his head, is the catalyst for hot tears to spill down his cheeks. Hubert hasn’t cried since he was a child, but he finds he can’t stop himself this time. He’s overwhelmed by a pain deeper than he’s ever felt, something that hurt more than having a powerful spell cast at him or getting stabbed in the shoulder.

If this is what meant being human, Hubert didn’t want it. 

And… There is one more moment, surrounded by yellows Hubert comes to hate.

“Hubert, I have something to ask of you.”

Hubert is looking anywhere but in Linhardt’s eyes. He’s pretending to be distracted by fixing his gloves or gazing at the dandelions in the grass. He finds the latter to be physically revolting, but he has no choice.

“Go ahead, then.”

“I’d like you to be my best man at my wedding.”

Hubert hates how Linhardt always manages to find a way to knock the wind out of him. He suppresses any form of shock in his face, but it creeps into his voice. “Is… That so?”

“Yes.” Linhardt uncrosses and crosses his legs, leaning back into his chair. “The wedding is in a couple of months. I don’t particularly allow myself to grow close to many people, but I feel you are best suited for the role.”

_ ‘The role.’  _ Yes, that’s right… Hubert has a role to play.

It didn’t matter how his stomach churned seeing the shared touches of the couple, nor how his insides seemed to upheave seeing their stolen kisses. The forest green and beaming smile amongst a sea of dandelions that haunted his dreams had no purpose. 

Hubert is not meant to walk his own path.

“Well?” Linhardt presses. It’s been a while since Hubert has responded.

“Yes.” Hubert’s mind is eerily quiet when he answers. He felt too hollowed out, too tired to continue thinking and worrying. He would do enough of that when he retired for bed that night. “I accept.” Because no matter what, he knows he would protect Linhardt’s smile, even if it wasn’t for him.

There were six moments Hubert considered himself human, and one moment he knows he never will be.

**Author's Note:**

> thanks for reading!  
> you can find me over @nozotome on twitter! talk to me about hubert!


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